It smells like WHAT???

My dad's birthday was back in January.  Normally, we celebrate by getting up at the butt-crack o' dawn and having breakfast somewhere yummy with all the kids in tow.  This year, however, our yearly outing was delayed until just this last weekend because dad has a slew of work and every Saturday and Sunday are eaten up at the shop.  We finally decide to make a date for last Sunday and head off to Placentia for our most favorite Mexican restaurant.  This time my boyfriend and his pops come along for the ride.  The plan is to pick up dad at 6:45am.  Why do we do this so early again?  I can't remember.  Oh yeah, it's because our favorite joint is everybody else's favorite joint, too, and if we don't get there when the place opens, we'll have to suffer and wait 15-20 minutes for a table.  Seriously.  My dad is crazy about getting there at 7am.  Sharp.  Sooo, Sunday morning rolls around and we oversleep.  Couldn't be the 3-4 cocktails we had over dinner and a movie the night before.  Or because our 8-month-old Olde English Bulldog woke us up twice with exploding diarrhea.  Nooooo.  We manage to get up, get the kids ready and leave by 6:45am.  Right about the time we were supposed to be picking dad up.  Mind you, none of us showered.  GROSS.  We make it to dad's and to our most favorite resty just about 30 minutes behind schedule ( mostly due to the fact that the bf drove it like he stole it).  The kids are so excited.  We pile out of the car and my 8 year old son, who apparently only comes with one volume (loud) says, and I quote, "IT SMELLS LIKE MEXICAN PEOPLE!"  Right about now, I can hear the record screech to a halt; the proverbial "crickets".  Seems awfully busy here in the parking lot right now.  I look at my angel face child and ask him what he said, just for clarification.  Because, I feel like I need to further the embarrassment.  Because, I obviously don't learn from my mistakes.  And he gladly obliges me. "I SAID IT SMELLS LIKE MEXICAN PEOPLE!"  Oh, yeah.  You already said that.  Right about now, I'm incredibly humiliated and at the same time enormously thankful that the bf and his pops are "of Latin descent".  Pops laughs it off and says, "Oh yeah?  What do Mexicans smell like?"  My bright-eyed boy replies, " Yummy!"  Then he runs to open the restaurant door for his mama.